


A Deal

by IanMuyrray



Series: Muy's OtherOutlanderTales [8]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 10:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16951908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IanMuyrray/pseuds/IanMuyrray
Summary: Ian and Jenny are close friends who see each other regularly. This time, Ian noticed a ring on Jenny's finger. Why is she wearing it?





	A Deal

“Ye’re not heading home already?” Jenny asked, looking him over as he stood from the table. Lamplight in the dark taproom made her pale skin look golden; her eyes were bright and cheeks slightly flushed from wine. She was returning from ordering a drink, her finger nervously tapping a wine glass, the contents whirling a deep purple. 

 

“I am,” Ian replied, adjusting the collar on his coat and avoiding her very blue gaze. “I’ve work in the morning.” His eyes caught the shine of the ring on her finger, and his brows drew together. “What is that, by the way?” He pointed to the ring. It had been bugging him all night, glittering on her hand as she laughed and swapped work week stories with friends. “Ye werena wearing that when I saw ye last week.” 

 

She covered the ring with her free hand. “Dinna worry about it.” 

 

“‘Dinna worry about it’?” he repeated, muttering it to himself. “If ye say so.” 

 

“Yes,” she replied, ignoring that she wasn’t meant to hear him. “It means nothing.”

 

“Then why are ye wearin’ it?” 

 

She gave him a look that dared a challenge, so he merely raised a brow and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Alright, weel, ye took so long at the bar that everyone has left.” 

 

Her eyes widened. “They left?” She glanced around him to the table, littered with dirty plates and empty pint glasses. “I know they had been saying they wanted to go, but…”

 

Ian shrugged. “Once Jamie and Claire decided to take off, everyone else left, too. I was waitin’ for ye, didna want to leave ye alone.” 

 

“I appreciate that,” she replied, matter of fact, but she shook her head and ran a hand through her hair, as if in irritation. “Now I have this drink, though... Are ye in a hurry?” She eyed Ian, giving him the impression that she was willing to set her drink down and leave, having consumed it or not. 

 

“I can stay for a bit.”

 

“Let’s sit?” 

 

As Ian slid into the booth, a man appeared at Jenny’s elbow, a hand out to touch her. “Janet!” he said, and she froze. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” He leaned in to whisper something in her ear, his fingers caressing her shoulder. Jenny stiffened and pulled out of the man’s arms, though she smiled politely at him. 

 

She plopped down next to Ian, placing a hand on his knee. The shock of the overly familiar touch nearly made him jerk away, but she gave him a squeeze, and he froze.

 

“This is my husband,” Janet said to the stranger, whose smirk had morphed into an expression of mild embarrassment. She ran her hand along Ian’s thigh, causing his heart to skitter, though he looked on at the man as if unaffected. “Ye’ll ken I mentioned him to you.” 

 

The stranger nodded. “I suppose you did. I--I wanted to make sure your wife had a safe ride home this evening,” he replied. “Though it looks like I don’t have to worry.” 

 

“Ye don’t,” Ian quipped, throwing an arm casually around Jenny’s shoulders. He brushed the hair back from her neck and ran his thumb just below her earlobe, her jaw. As if on impulse, Jenny turned her head to look at him, her eyes searching. A flame shone just beneath them, though they were darkened with the dimness of the room.

 

“Have a nice night,” the man said, turning to go. 

 

Ian made a general noise of acknowledgment in his throat, beginning to shift his weight away from Jenny, but she leaned into him. 

 

“Thanks,” she said. “I’m sorry if that was awkward. He wouldn’t leave me alone.” 

 

He grinned at her. “I’m your husband now, am I? When was the wedding? Were ye gonna tell me about it?” 

 

“Tch. Ian.” She reached for her wine glass, leaning out from under his arm, which was draped across the back of the booth, but she settled back into it again right away. She took a sip, angling her body towards him. She stretched out her fingers, showcasing the ring. “It’s fake.” 

 

Ian chuckled, feeling light as air. “Yeah?” 

 

“Well, I dinna suppose you understand what it’s like to be a single woman in a bar, not in the  _ least  _ interested in dating anyone, when all of a sudden ye’ve got guys approaching ye left and right, needin’ this and sayin’ that and suggestin’ things.” 

 

“Sure I do; men hit on me all the time.” 

 

“You moron,” she laughed, giving him a playful shove to the chest. He steadied her with his arm before she could rock back, tightening his grasp, drawing her close. The flush of the wine was apparent on her cheeks, her features lively and alluring. He leaned closer, unable to resist the impulse to be near her. Their noses nearly touched, and he could feel her breath on his jaw, soft and gentle. Her fingers curled in the collar of his shirt; her lips parted. Time slowed-- then Ian drew back, releasing her. 

 

He shifted his weight away from her, separating them by mere inches, though it felt like an ocean’s gulf. He coughed, politely, and opened his mouth to change the subject. 

 

“What were you doing?” she asked.

 

“Sorry--” 

 

“Ah.” She ran her finger down the stem of her wine glass, which sat, nearly full and waiting on the table. “Because from my end, it seemed like you were going to kiss me.”

 

His stomach swooped, and he fought to steady himself. God, he wanted to kiss her-- but she was Jenny, his best friend’s older sister, a friend to him in her own right. She was someone he’d gone to summer camp with, someone he’d ruthlessly teased when she began wearing makeup as a young teen, someone he’d once sneered at simply because she was a girl. She’d always been there, a constant in his life, an extension of his own family; she had always been a sister to him. 

 

But then-- he wasn’t sure what had happened. Several months ago, he felt a switch flip, a relentless flood within him overflowing for Jenny. Their regular weekly outings had proved more and more discomforting, and yet exciting; although surrounded by others, he only ever wanted to talk to her. 

 

And then tonight, she’d showed up with that ring, and he had heard his heart snap. Some other bugger had made all the right moves before he’d even worked up the courage-- only to find out it was a false signal worn to deter men from hitting on her. 

 

“Why did ye tell that guy I was your husband?” he asked. “Why me? Simply because I was here or--”

 

Jenny shrugged and gave him a small smile that made him take a deep breath. “No,” she said, pointedly. “I tell everyone who asks that you’re my husband.” 

 

Startled, Ian choked on a surprise laugh. “You  _ what _ ?” 

 

“Well,” she replied, drawing out the syllable. He saw her chest and neck flush crimson as she powered through. “I always kind of assumed…” 

 

He raised a sardonic brow, unable to contain the satisfied grin spreading across his face. “Assumed what?” 

 

“Maybe it’s just me,” she said carefully, “but I don’t think it is.” Her gaze met his, blue and steady and serious. The flicker of flame he’d seen before had burst, roared into life. 

 

“Ye shouldna roam about the world makin’ random men your husband,” Ian said, brusque, surprising himself. 

 

“Tch. Not random men.  _ You. _ ” She sipped her wine, her manner nonchalant, though Ian noticed her hand shaking. “Sorry if it bothers you,” she said after setting her glass down again. Her tone had quieted but she remained forthright. 

 

He considered her a moment but then leaned forward, into her personal space. “Doesna bother me, Janet,” he said. “Only that… we’ve skipped some parts, don’t ye think?” 

 

Her lips quirked at the corner. Some of her hair had fallen into her face as she’d turned to look at him, and Ian softly brushed the locks back behind her ear-- how he loved the look of her hair, and now he had the feel of it between his fingertips. Soft and silky; thick and dark. 

 

“Perhaps,” she leveled at him. There was nothing reserved or tense in her body as she swayed toward him; she was warm and inviting and open. 

 

He chuckled. “I’ll make ye a deal, then.”

 

“A deal?” 

 

“How about…” Ian reached for her left hand, holding the fine-boned fingers in his own. He trailed a finger over the gem, watching it glitter. There was something synthetic to it now, he realized as he looked at it closely, seeing it reflect light in a shallow way. He slipped it off over her knuckle and dropped it into his coat pocket. She raised her eyebrows at him but said nothing, her hand still in his. “How about,” he repeated himself, his tone pointed this time, “you can keep me as an excuse to keep other men away, but only if you agree to let me kiss ye first.” 

 

Jenny beamed, leaning forward to kiss him. Her mouth was firm and tender, her body warm. “Deal.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
